


Falling

by Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, mention of Markos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 07:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17782853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic/pseuds/Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic
Summary: Am I oddly invested in young Kassandra getting a side gig as bouncer in a brothel? Yep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Am I oddly invested in young Kassandra getting a side gig as bouncer in a brothel? Yep.

“I was going to bring you a haunch, but then I remembered that you don’t have anywhere to cook something so big,” Kassandra placed the bag on the table.

Her shoulder felt a bit sweaty from carrying a bag of venison slung over it all this way in the sun.

“You are a goddess! I love deer,” Clio gave her a quick, hard hug, feeling Kassandra instinctively stiffen and then consciously relax.

“Selene!” she said, releasing Kassandra from the hug and smiling at the middle aged woman who was entering, rubbing sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Kassandra is here,” Clio beamed.

“So I see.”

It was difficult to miss her.

The girl got bigger every time Selene saw her.

She towered over Clio, awkwardly dominating the room by dint of her sheer size.

She had begun to fill out a little over the past few weeks, Selene observed. She was never going to be buxom, but nascent breasts swelled her tunic a little, there was a slight curve to her ass now.

But, no, Kassandra was a different sort of attractive. Broad shouldered, slim hipped, powerful arms and legs. She was every inch the athlete. If the girl grew up to learn the effect she could have...well…

She should stop thinking of her as a _girl_ as well she reproved herself.

After all, she’d fallen out with Markos about that very thing.

But honestly, for a woman of Selene’s age it was difficult to look at Kassandra looming awkwardly over Clio, shuffling her feet, smiling bashfully as the young woman teased her about her hunting prowess, without feeling the youth of her.

At least she hoped it was her prowess at hunting that Clio was referring to?

Selene hadn’t kept her ear on the conversation and Clio could get risqué at a moment’s notice.

“So, Kassandra,” Selene interrupted, just to be on the safe side, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You come bearing gifts, I see?”

“Yes, but it’s all right,” Kassandra grinned. “I’m a Spartan.”

Selene laughed and patted her arm.

“A funny Spartan, who would have imagined it? Sit and have breakfast with us,” she took a seat by the table at the opposite end from the bag of meat. “Well...afternoon breakfast,” she conceded.

Kassandra had been up since dawn, and now that Selene had mentioned it, she realised that she was ravenous. She sat down opposite the older woman as Clio fussed about, filling a plate with fruit, cheese, cold meat.

“Oh!” she remembered. “I have something for you.”

Selene raised her eyebrows quizzically and watched as Kassandra struggled to pull something out of her pocket.

It had clearly been something of an achievement getting whatever it was in there in the first place.

No wonder she went through clothes so quickly. She was always cramming things into them that didn’t really fit, whether it was packages or her shoulders.

At last Kassandra managed to pull out a small box. Putting it on the table she pushed it forward with a shy smile.

“Ah...Kassandra,” Selene said, awkwardly, recognising the packaging.

“I have told you, sweet girl. I don’t want Markos’ peace offerings. I’m sorry.” She pushed it back across the table.

“No, no, no,” Kassandra shook her head. “They aren’t from him. They’re from...from me.”

She tentatively pushed them back in Selene’s direction, as if afraid she might push them straight back.

Selene looked from Kassandra’s hopeful smile, down to the box and back up again.

“That’s very kind of you,” she smiled. “But it isn’t my birthday for some weeks yet. Why...”

She pried open the box, the rich sweet smell of dates crept out.

“Well,” Kassandra was looking down now, rubbing the back of her neck bashfully.

It was awfully endearing, Selene thought.

“I know you love dates. And you aren’t taking the ones Markos sends over. So I thought perhaps you might be...missing having dates?...So I...got you some?”

Selene shook her head, looking from Kassandra down to the fat, shiny morsels. She smiled fondly.

“You are the sweetest girl,” she pried one out of the sticky mass with a little difficulty. “Thank you. Would you care for one?”

Kassandra shook her head, smiling, clearly relieved.

“No, they’re for you.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a date,” Clio placed a laden plate in front of Kassandra.

“Don’t worry, you aren’t going to get the chance,” Selene smirked, taking a bite and moaning ecstatically. “So delicious.”

“It’s not everyone who can make a woman moan like that,” Clio winked at Kassandra, who blushed hotly and looked down at the plate.

“Clio!” Selene reproved quietly. “Some milk for Kassandra, please.”

“Sadly, there’s no milk until Europa returns,” said Clio, only slightly chastened. 

She poured a cup of wine for Selene and pushed a bowl of olives over by Kassandra’s plate.

She hovered the wine jug over Kassandra’s empty cup but she shook her head, her mouth full of cold chicken.

“I don't know how you can drink that stuff Kassandra but Europa shouldn’t be much longer,” Clio sighed. “I don’t know what’s taking all this time. She went out ages ago...and I want some bread...so badly,” she poured herself some wine and settled for a couple of olives.

“She’s probably flirting with young what’s-his-name? Adrian?” Selene smiled, watching fondly as Kassandra ploughed through her food with workman-like efficiency.

I don’t know what she sees in him,” Clio laughed. “He’s such a weedy little thing. I’m amazed he can haul nets.”

“He’s a sweet boy,” Selene said placidly, nibbling at a second date. “And he’s kind to Europa. Many women like a gentle man.”

“I suppose,” Clio reached for another olive. “Personally I prefer a man who can...”

Kassandra never did find out what Clio’s preferences were in this regard, because Europa chose this moment to noisily return.

“Gods’ teeth, it is so busy out there. And hot. It would be so much quicker if two of us went to shop,” she gave Clio a meaningful glance as she bustled in with a glazed jug tucked into the crook of one arm, a canvas sack in the other hand.

“Kassandra!” she exclaimed delightedly. “How lovely. I was just thinking about you last night!” She put the shopping down on the table, taking care with the jug.

“No shame in that,” Clio grinned suggestively, waggling her eyebrows. Europa rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Clio, go unpack the groceries if you would,” Selene said firmly.”And then eat some bread please, keep your mouth occupied for a few minutes.”

“You look so well,” Europa smiled at Kassandra. “Come, give me a hug, please?”

Kassandra turned in her seat and extended her arms.

“Not like that!” Europa laughed. “Silly. Get up and give me a real hug, you big bear.”

Kassandra had been called a bear by Markos on a number of occasions, one of them quite recently in fact.

“Kassandra, you clumsy bear.” “Kassandra, you eat like a bear.” “Kassandra, you’re louder than a bear.”

It felt quite different, however, when accompanied by Europa’s fond laughter, instead of Markos’ irritated sighs and snaps.

She got to her feet, towering over Europa, who hugged her hard about the waist and rested her head against Kassandra’s chest.

Cautiously at first, but with growing confidence, Kassandra wrapped her powerful arms about the smaller woman, bending to compensate for the height difference between them.

Europa hummed happily and Kassandra could feel the sound vibrate against her chest.

She hugged her a little harder, enjoying the warmth of the body in her arms.

She brought with her the scents of the market, and something else, something uniquely Europa.

Kassandra hadn’t received a lot of hugs in her life. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times Markos had hugged her.

And one of them had been a clumsy, lurching grab when she’d tripped and nearly fallen off the roof while they were repairing tiles, so she didn’t think that one even really counted.

“You give the best hugs, Kassandra,” Europa gave a final nuzzle against her chest, before slowly withdrawing from the circle of her embrace.

“Are you staying tonight?” she looked up hopefully. “Antia will be here, with those little honey cakes you like?”

“No, it’s all right, thank you,” Kassandra smiled and shook her head. “I don’t want to get under the feet, you’ll be busy tonight with the boats returned.”

“Tell her, Selene,” Europa pleaded as she filled Kassandra’s cup with milk. “Tell her she won’t be under the feet.”

“Sweet child,” Selene watched her empty the cup quickly and accept a refill from Europa, who laughingly wiped away milk from Kassandra’s upper lip.

“You would be doing us a service. Another pair of strong arms sitting quietly in a corner would be useful on a busy night.”

The appeal to her usefulness seemed to persuade her.

Selene reached over the table and took her big, calloused hand in hers.

“And you could never be under the feet here. Even if you tried.”


	2. Chapter 2

Kassandra had found a number of ways to make herself useful. She had moved furniture and run errands, helped ready the rooms, filled wine jugs, emptied buckets.

It was pleasant to help out people who thanked her enthusiastically.

Or thanked at all actually, she reflected thoughtfully.

A number of older women began to arrive. They didn’t live with Selene and the others, but came in the evenings when boats had docked,.

They were laughing and chatting amongst themselves, optimistic about the prospect of a haul of drachmae to match the haul of fish that had been unloaded at the dock earlier that day.

They were all happy to see Kassandra, most having known her since she was small. Antia was there and did indeed have the honey cakes that Kassandra was so fond of.

By the time customers began to arrive, smelling of salt and sea and, less pleasantly, fish, Kassandra was settled in a quiet corner with a cup of wine and a plate of cakes, drowsily observing proceedings.

She startled awake some time later. The room was quiet and dark. It smelt of sweat, spent candles and spilt wine.

Selene was leaning over her.

Kassandra jolted and looked down at her hands.

Someone must have taken away the plate and cup she realised. But there was a crushed honey cake between her feet.

That was unfortunate.

“Come on now, sweetheart,” Selene was hooking an arm around her and making as if to lift. “You’re going to have to help me a little bit. I’m not as strong as you,” she smiled.

Kassandra obligingly wobbled to her feet. She was so sleepy.

“I’ll...I’ll just get my...did I have my bow with me?” she frowned, trying to remember.

“Oh darling girl, you’re staying _here_ tonight,” Selene laughed, putting Kassandra's arm about her shoulders. “I think everyone has been refilling your cup tonight, not realising that the others were doing it too.”

At the foot of the stairs Selene stopped to gather her strength.

Looking up, she sorely wished she’d asked a couple of the more sober sailors to help her before she’d waved them all off into the night.

Kassandra gave a huge, loud, unselfconscious yawn and as she inevitably joined her Selene realised guiltily just how very tired she must be.

She had been up since dawn, hunting and training, and had spent the evening helping here.

Selene should have found a quiet corner out back and put her down to sleep.

She needed proper rest. Despite appearances she was still growing after all, and gods’ knew she barely got a moment’s peace at home.

She’d wanted Kassandra to observe the evening though.

Wanted her to observe what Andras, the hired muscle, did.

Wanted her to begin to think that she could easily do that herself.

Selene didn’t think that Kassandra could live under the same roof as Markos for very much longer.

As maturity approached, she and he were increasingly sparking off each other. She would soon be ready to strike out on her own. She’d need money for that, and she certainly wasn’t going to get it from Markos.

She was too proud to accept charity, but she _did_ seem to like helping out around the place.

She could be a considerable asset. She was already nearly as big as Andras and certainly smelt a whole lot better.

Though she might not in the morning, she thought ruefully.

As they set off upstairs, slowly and unsteadily, Selene hoped Kassandra had seen enough of the evening for the seed to be planted, before her idiot girls had inadvertently got her plastered.

At the top of the stairs they stopped, Kassandra swaying alarmingly, as Selene tried to navigate a sharp turn.

“I’m very tired,” Kassandra whispered, conspiratorially.

“I bet you are, sweetheart,” Selene smiled, hitching the brawny arm more securely about her shoulders. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“I have a new bed,” Kassandra informed her, with the air of one confiding a secret. “But it’s not here...I don’t think,” she frowned thoughtfully.

“No, no it’s not,” Selene urged her forward and tried to open her bedroom door without losing her grip on her charge.

“You’re going to sleep with me tonight,” she pushed open the door and led them in.

Selene noticed the startled, but not entirely unenthusiastic, look Kassandra gave her but chose to say nothing about it.

Kicking the door closed she guided Kassandra over to the bed and sat her down.

She wouldn’t be the first drunk she’d put to bed. She wasn’t even the biggest, now she came to think of it. And she was keeping her hands to herself, at least.

Rummaging in a chest at the foot of the bed she found a nightshirt that a former customer had left. It was far too good to make into rags, so she had saved it for just such an eventuality.

“Come on now,” she took hold of Kassandra’s hands, raising them over her head, reaching for the hem of her tunic. “Let’s get this off you.”

Kassandra seemed determined to do it herself, so Selene left her to it and bent to take off her sandals for her.

This done she stood up.

Kassandra was sitting in her underwear smiling beatifically.

“By the gods!” Selene breathed, taking in the sight of her.

She really wasn’t a little girl any more. Thank Zeus she hadn’t woken Clio to help. They’d never have heard the end of it.

Kassandra seemed about to unfasten her breast band but Selene stopped her quickly.

She would be embarrassed enough in the morning without that.

She managed to get the nightshirt on her without too much trouble.

Kassandra seemed to be a very biddable drunk, fortunately.

Selene didn’t much care to think what it would be like if she was belligerent in her cups.

The bed creaked loudly as Kassandra shuffled over, flopped back and almost immediately began to snore.

Selena eyed the sprawling figure a little despondently.

She supposed there was enough room by her side for Selene to sleep without falling out of the bed. She supposed.


	3. Chapter 3

Kassandra frequently had nightmares. Not as many as she had as a child of course.

During the first weeks with Markos she had awoken sweating and screaming most nights, to her shame. A Spartan should be above such things. 

She had tried her best to swallow her sobs, to not disturb the man who had rescued her from the beach. But her initial involuntary cries were always enough to wake him. The cries she could not control.

He would burst into her room, wild eyed and wild haired, looking about for intruders. 

For the first couple of nights, at least. He quickly wearied of it. 

He was right, of course. They were just dreams. Nothing to be afraid of. Certainly not worth waking hard working men in the middle of the night.

She remembered the first night, though. How he had patted her head awkwardly, asking her what was upsetting her so. 

She had told him, gulping and hiccuping, trying to control her emotions and he had pulled her onto his lap, held her close. His hairy chest, rough and tickly against her cheek, his thick fingers stroking her head clumsily as he haltingly assured her that it was all right, that she was safe now.

It was just a dream. Pictures in her mind. They couldn’t hurt her. She was safe now here with him.

The next night he had been a little less enthusiastic.

The third night he had poked his head around the door and wearily reminded her that it was just a dream, he was very tired, she should be a brave little Spartan. It would all seem so far away in the morning.

It usually did.

He was right. Her parents would be disappointed by her panicky sobbing. People did need a good night’s sleep. Dreams were just pictures in your mind.

Over time she learned to comfort herself, to control her panic.

Panic at the falling.

The rushing, tumbling descent, wind screaming past her ears. 

One moment the star scattered sky, the next the dark, roiling waves.

Plummeting downwards, hands clawing madly at the air. 

Her father’s stern, implacable face as he released his grip on her wrist.

The fall, lasting forever, till Kassandra prayed for the impact, even though she knew it meant death. 

Anything to end the dreadful anticipation.

Tension stretched to a distant, unreachable breaking point.

Nowadays she would often wake at this stage, sweating, breathing hard. 

Sometimes though it was the impact itself that woke her.

Like falling onto stone. Bruising her ribs. Driving all the air from her lungs.

And the cold. Making her gasp. Filling her lungs with black ice.

Descending into the dark. Chest heaving. Desperately trying to suck breath into lungs already full, bursting with chill death.

Sometimes she dreamed on through that. 

Dreamed of a bottomless suffocating descent.

But the next part always woke her.

Staring up through the black water, eyes wide and burning.

Gazing up at the cliff edge with the impossible clarity of a dream.

Her mother’s face looking down at her.

Solemn. Pitying. Slowly shaking her head, before turning her back.

 

Selene was woken by a blow to her shoulder. She forced herself up out of sleep, pushing it aside like a heavy blanket. What was that noise? Who was she in bed with?

Raising herself up on one elbow she realised it was Kassandra.

It took her a few moments to remember what had occurred earlier in the night. Why she was in bed with Kassandra, of all people. 

She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes and turned up the lamp by the bed.

Kassandra was thrashing about in her sleep. Hands clawing at the sheets, head tossing on the pillow, face wet with sweat.

A friend had once told Selene that you shouldn’t wake someone in the grip of a nightmare, in case the shock killed them.

But the sounds Kassandra was making were pitiable. A soft, young whimpering, like a terrified child. It broke Selene’s heart to hear it.

She knew enough about Kassandra’s past to make a good guess about what sort of terror gripped her. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, leave her alone to it.

“Kassandra, Kassandra,” she gripped her shoulder and shook her gently. Unsurprisingly it had no effect. Kassandra probably wasn’t even aware of her touch.

Selene gripped hard and shook her more forcefully, whilst keeping her voice soft.

“Come on darling girl, it’s all right, wake up now,” she pleaded.

It took a couple of minutes. Minutes that seemed like hours, as Selene shook her and repeated her name, calling her back. But then Kassandra’s eyes opened, seeing nothing, glazed with sleep and terror.

“There now,” Selene soothed, stroking her face, moving strands of damp hair behind her ears. Sweat rolled down her face and neck, pooling in the hollow of her throat.

Selene gathered a corner of the sheet and gently wiped her face, crooning softly the whole while.

She had comforted enough drunken sailors, held and soothed them, weeping for their mothers even as their seed seeped from between her thighs. She knew what to do here.

“It’s all right Kassandra, I have you now, you’re safe,” she gentled her, easing her into an embrace. “I’m won’t let anything hurt you now. You’re safe with me.”

It was an impossible promise, but sometimes a lie was the kindest option.

She felt Kassandra gradually relax against her, felt the rigid muscles of the girl’s shoulders and back begin to melt as sleep reclaimed her, the solid weight of her body pressing down on Selene as she laid them both down.

Pulling Kassandra close she wrapped one arm about her shoulders, reaching out with the other, to turn down the lamp. 

Kassandra whimpered a little, nuzzled in tightly, buried her face against the warmth of Selene’s breast. 

Selene lay awake, watching the room lighten as dawn broke. 

They probably wouldn’t mention this tomorrow. Kassandra may not even remember it, or want to remember it. But if she did, Selene would be there to listen.

Kassandra muttered a little in her sleep, something unintelligible, moved a hand across Selene’s chest, clutching lightly at her shoulder.

“Mater?”

Selene swallowed thickly, stroked Kassandra’s damp hair.

“If you like Kassandra. If you like,” she whispered.


End file.
